Chapter 55 Mystery Town

On May 15, Bjorn's longship arrived in Taineburg. 

As soon as the ship docked, a group of armed civilians with shields and axes approached and asked to inspect the cargo. 

"There are only cast iron ingots and tar, nothing more." Bjorn whistled and allowed the armed civilians to inspect the cargo in the cabin. 

After the inspection, the leading armed civilian introduced the strangers to the rules of Taineburg: "It is forbidden to steal, rob, and kill. Remember to pay taxes after selling goods..." "

Understood, we are not causing trouble." 

Having gotten rid of this noise, Bjorn told the crew to move freely, and he himself walked along the dock and visited a number of hydraulic workshops scattered along the riverbank.

"To operate a watermill and saw wood, Vig basically studied Roman technology." 

He approached the door of a hydraulic sawmill, from which a strong smell of wood emanated. Running water turned a water wheel, which, through a connecting rod and gear system, drove an iron saw blade. Workers placed logs on the saw bed, sawed them into pieces according to specifications, and then carried them to a cart outside and took them to a carpenter's workshop inside the wall.

"Hey, don't block the way!" At this moment, a dozen workers entered the sawmill with various tools, apparently preparing to install new saws. Björn secretly calculated:

the saw's output is equivalent to the output of eight workers. There were three saws now, and if two more were installed, the total workload would be equivalent to forty workers. Why did Vig need so much wood? 

With doubt, Björn visited the nearby watermills and water bleaching workshops, which were also expanding. The noise and bustle, the bustling voices made him miss the cities of the northern Mediterranean coast. 

After observing for half an hour, Björn passed through the gate of the southern wall and entered the inner part of Tyne Town. He was struck by the fact that pedestrians and carriages walked only on the right side of the street, drainage ditches were dug on both sides, and there was almost no litter on the road. The cleanliness was much better than in any other city he had visited. 

After walking for a while, he went into the nearest tavern. For a traveler who is away from home all year round, a tavern is often the best place to get information.

"Two glasses of ale and some dried beef."

Bjorn handed him a halfpenny, but the barman turned it down. "The lord forbids private slaughter of bulls. Mutton or pork?"

"Pork." 

Reaching the corner of the tavern, he picked up a glass and took a sip. The clear and sweet liquid slid down his throat and into his stomach. The aroma of malt mingled with the unique smell of peat, making people linger.

"Is this beer? Have you made a mistake?"

The barman wiped the glass with a rag behind the bar and looked up impatiently. "Yes, this is beer. The lord built a large brewery, selected the best wheat grains, and strictly controlled the quality of each production process. The resulting beer is much better than the low-grade beer that simple farmers brew carelessly. And you are lucky that in all taverns on the first and fifteenth of each month, and that is today, in all taverns, alcohol is sold at a discount." Soon Bjorn drank two large glasses of beer, took out a handful of silver pennies and put them on the bar: "Give me a few more barrels, and after you go to sea, drink them slowly."

"Remember, the tavern's alcohol is on sale, and bulk purchases can only be made at the original price." 

"Stop spouting nonsense, I don't need this small change." 

…

After carrying the drinks back to the boat, Bjorn followed the stream of people to the square in the center of the city. On the eastern side stood a tall, black temple. He walked inside and took a leisurely stroll. The atmosphere was solemn and majestic, not as gloomy as he had imagined. 

On the northern side of the square was a large notice board with notices in three languages: Norwegian, Latin, and Anglo-Saxon. Several small merchants also posted information about their trade on it. In front of the board stood a fat, middle-aged man with a loud voice, telling passersby about the lord's decrees and the latest news.

"It is recommended that five neighboring houses keep at least one cat to catch mice." 

"Residents, especially small children, are advised to drink boiled water." 

"Blacksmiths and masons moving to Tyne Town may be granted free outdoor space to set up shop." 

"There have been more wars in Northern Europe recently, and a large number of Vikings have migrated to Britain. There will be sporadic robberies in the coastal areas. Be vigilant!" 

...

On the western side of the square is the mayor's residence. Bjorn glanced at the door, but the guards shooed him away. On the southern side, children could be heard chattering in the courtyard. He watched the situation through the window and saw a group of children sitting on stools, staring blankly at numbers and mathematical formulas on the board.

The shaman at the podium chanted, "The sum of two sides of a triangle is greater than the third side, and three angles add up to 180 degrees."

The children weakly chimed in, "The sum of two sides of a triangle is greater than the third side..."

After watching for less than half a minute, Bjorn suddenly became bored. "Math? This is no fun. Why not teach them fighting skills?"

Finally, he yawned and reached the southwestern part of Tyne Town. The terrain here is higher. On a low hill in the southwestern corner stands a square wooden fort with a flag with a black dragon on top. 

"I am Bjorn. I have something to discuss with Vig."

After sailing the Mediterranean, Bjorn "Iron Bone"'s popularity soared and he was considered a representative of a new generation of great seafarers. Noticing the visit of the legendary figure, the shield-bearer on the wall respectfully replied: "The lord oversees the agriculture outside the city. I will now lead you." 

The next moment, the wooden door opened, and the shield-bearer led Bjorn out of Tyne Town. He walked west for a long time and finally reached a slope facing south. 

Strangely enough, there were many thin wooden sticks sticking out of the field. Bjorn had seen a lot, but this was the first time he had seen such a method. 

Seeing the bewilderment on his guest's face, Vig pulled a seed out of the ground. 

"The Germans use this plant to make wine. Its Latin name is "Humulus lupulus". I plan to call it 'hops'. Hops are a climbing plant and need support to grow upward. The thin wooden sticks serve as supports so that the hop vines have something to twine around.' 

Bjorn took the seeds and examined them patiently. 'You use this plant to make wine. Does it taste better than mead and wine?' 

Vig shook his head. 'The taste is not important, but the shelf life of the wine. The shelf life of beer is a maximum of three weeks, which is quite suitable for sale to nearby regions. According to the experience of the Germans, after using hops, the shelf life of wine increases significantly - up to several months. Thus, wine brewed in Tyne Town will be sold by sea to all corners of Northern Europe, and the profit will increase dramatically.' 

After a short conversation, Vig asked Bjorn about the purpose of his visit. He was very puzzled to learn that he was going to go in search of the legendary "Jotunheim". 

"It's just barren land. Is there any special reason why you are in such a hurry to go out to sea to find it?"